


A Chance

by MediocreMemory



Series: Little Wolf [4]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreMemory/pseuds/MediocreMemory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short Fenarius pieces.<br/>Most do not contain sexual content, though it is implied periodically.<br/>Special thanks to Ahsimwithsake for the inspiration for these. These pieces tie in with her continuing storyline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Gift](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8876) by Ahsimwithsake. 



Danarius sat as his desk, fingers tethered together beneath his chin, and leaned forward to peer at his apprentice.

“Bring him to me.” his voice was unusually hoarse sounding. He supposed that’s what happens when you are fueled by rage to the point your usual demeanor is hidden.

He looked back to his papers, hearing the tap of Hadriana’s sandals against the stone as she left. Picking up the quill, he jammed into into the ink well and spilled black over its brim to dot the parchment he had been writing on.

“Venhedis!” he growled out, letting the feathered writer drop onto his work. Fenris had gone too far this time. He had shirked an entire day’s worth of training for Maker knows what and his lack of preparation had shown in his sparring. He wavered during an attack and had taken the blade to the ear.

The pointed shell had been split, seeming to dangle from where it attached to his head. Luckily the apothecary was able to mend it well enough- with little to no scarring when it was fully healed. Now Fenris was bandaged and Danarius, in his upset, had ordered nothing be given to his pet for the pain.

After all he had done for the lad, Danarius was left with a bitter taste every time Fenris showed his true feelings. The elf may have thought he was clever in hiding it, but with every week that passed, it seemed his disgust for his master was growing harder to hide.

How many slaves did he burn through before he perfected the ritual? How much time and effort had he spent studying this spell and that, working with every tool and variation of the all-too-finicky lyrium? All for his final product; his ungrateful pet. The thoughts seered through him as he gave up on his parchment, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest in a huff.

He drifted off in them and only the shuffle of bare feet and clink of metal growing louder broke him from them. The sound halted once it was across the room from him and Danarius stared out at their source.

Fenris stood still as stone. Sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down the white bandage that crossed it; equally pale hair mushed beneath as well as hanging over it. The little rabbit had done well, but the thick padding of cloth over Fenris’ left ear kept Danarius from lingering on the beauty of his specimen.

The two remained in silence long enough for Fenris to start to shift in place; nerves on edge as he waited for whatever was in store for him. He had already been denied two weeks meat, received a whipping, His courtyard privileges revoked, and sent to practice from sun-up to sundown. Perhaps it would have been better if he admitted to why he had done it, but he would not risk the wrath it would invoke. Not for her or himself, though self-preservation rang at him forefront.

“You despise me.” Danarius stated, breaking the quiet with a voice that echoed off the stone walls. Fenris jutted to a straight stand in shock. “It is true- even if you don’t have the tongue to say it yourself.”

“I-” Fenris started, but was cut off as Danarius slammed his hand on the desk.

“You will not speak unless I wish it.” his voice was oddly calm despite the rage he displayed. Standing, he grabbed his staff- always close beside him. One can never be too careful, of course. “You want a chance at freedom?”

Fenris remained in place, still unmoving. Danarius knew that his pet’s mind was a mess of thoughts. He watched the flicker of hope snap to the front of the lad’s emerald eyes. If ever Fenris had denied it before, there was no chance of convincing his master now.

“If you can best me, then you will be granted freedom.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I am many things, my pet. But not a liar.” there was no falsehood in his statement, though the context was clearly misinterpreted. He knew from the hitch in Fenris’ breath that his pet thought he would walk out of the estate as an ex-slave. A free man at last.

The truth was, if Fenris were to cause Danarius to fall, the elf would have a spring breeze replacing the lump above his shoulders. Danarius would never chance someone else taking his toys, even in his own death, and if word of his own slave downing him got around, the most he could hope for in the terms of power would be a piss pot to name.

But a smile lined his face as he thought on the ideas, certain that the only person falling to their knees today would be Fenris.

Fenris jerked as Danarius hit the end of his stave on the stone. Instinct brought the elf’s blade forward and his legs spread to press him down into a stronger battle stance. Danarius chuckled as he watched his pet, intent and hopeful as he was. It was endearing in his eyes, and he almost wanted to prolong the inevitable defeat.

He stopped himself, however. Toying with the lad would definitely be enjoyable but it would not serve his purpose. If Danarius gave Fenris an ounce of hope that he could truly defeat his master, who knew what he would try in the future? So as the elf rushed toward him, the bright, white light that sung threw the air was quick to knock him back.

Fenris heard a ringing in his ears and shook his head to try and rid himself of it. The stone that he had hit left his back throbbing, but he was far from giving up. Grabbing his blade from where it fell to the ground, he stood and snarled at Danarius.

A second current brightened the room and again, Fenris was flung back. Again, he gathered his sword and stood. This time, he didn’t blindly rush forward. Hunched down, he stepped slowly toward Danarius- his master practically yawning at the tiresome approach. When at last Fenris had closed the gap, only a few steps between them, He pulled his sword to the side for a swiping lash.

The clang of metal against iron rang in the air and his arm shook from the impact of the blade against Danarius’ stave. It was almost as if his master hadn’t moved at all. Fenris arched his back, preparing to swing his blade down into grey hair when he felt the oddly burning cold clasp around his feet and travel up his legs to his torso. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t feel anything but the ice prickling across his skin.

Danarius turned sideways, closing his hand into a fist coated in flames, before flinging the fire toward Fenris. It melted the ice and licked his flesh, causing a yelp to spring forth from him.

When at last the spell dissipated, Fenris reared back and gripped the blade for a straight jab at Danarius’ torso. The magister groaned as it connected with his gut. He gained hope from the noise, taking the opportunity to strike again as Danarius doubled over from the blow.

“That is enough!” Danarius said when he had finally caught his breath. As the words left him, he swung his arm out, a strong force pushing Fenris down to the ground. Bolts of lightning coursed through his body and ethereal hands clawed his flesh, seemingly beneath his armor.

When one anguish ended, a new one began; fire and ice mingled together to still his breath, black covered his vision and screams sounded in his mind. The attacks were relentless- to the point he could do little more than lay on the ground, waving his arms in defense against each untouchable attacker.

His sanity threatened to flee but the flicker of hope vanished in its stead.

“I yield!” Fenris finally cried when his voice allowed. The words hurt worse than Danarius’ attacks and the smiling face that stared down at him when his vision returned blurred it again as tears formed.

Danarius leaned down over the shuddering elf, brushing sweat-soaked hair back. His lips touched Fenris’ good ear.

“Will you be a good boy now?”

Fenris nodded his head.


End file.
